Michael D'Agsotino of A Life Examined decided to start a new bloghop. It's called Flashback Friday––a time of the month where you can republish an old post of yours that maybe didn't get enough attention, or that you're really proud of, or you think is still relevant, etc.
If you'd like to join us, we've decided to make this happen on the last Friday of every month. Enter your blog's name into the Linky List below and grab the code so you can put the list on your page and spread the word.
And Summer Will Not Come Again first appeared on my blog on June 12, 2010. You might recognize the title, as it's the same as that of a well-known short story by Sylvia Plath. Get a tissue to wipe your eyes a bit after you read this one. It's about Robin, a foster dog who lived with me briefly during the spring and summer of 2010.
Robin has come here to live.
Robin has come here to die.
Robin is some sort of bulldog mix. She has had I don't know how many litters of puppies. She has a terrible limp. She has a scar around her neck from being chained. Her ribs are sticking out.
And she has cancer. About four months to live, according to the vet.
My son's young lady love wants her to know what happiness is before she dies, and I think she already has it figured out.
Happiness is curling up in a chair in the family room and getting your tummy scratched.
Happiness is regular meals.
Happiness is a fenced in back yard where you can run with the other dogs and feel free but safe.
Happiness is batting at Mom's arm when she's reading to make sure Mom doesn't forget you for one second and you don't get in trouble for wanting attention.
Happiness is getting into Mom's bed at night and cuddling up as close to Mom as you can get.
I named her Robin because it is still spring. Summer will arrive soon, but right now, at this moment, it is still spring and the robins return in the spring.
So Robin has come to us during the spring. We will see her through the summer and care for her and give her all the love she wants and needs.
Then when fall arrives and it is time for the dying that precedes winter, we will see Robin through her death and we will make sure the death is as calm and gentle as possible.
Robin, you are loved.
Robin, this is what happiness is.
I am so glad you are here.
The first time I post Robin's story, it received four comments. It's gained more attention since then. It's one of my favorite posts, so that why I use it today. I still miss Robin.
Infinities of love,
Please join us!